


that is not my lover (he must be somewhere else)

by orphan_account



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-18 11:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4703651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a careless car crash, Alex Morgan wakes up in a completely different apartment, in bed with someone completely new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

Alex struggles to slot the key through the hole in her car door, feeling the effects of today's extra-hard, extra-long practice. After a few more tries, she finally manages to maneuver the key into her door. Alex is really kicking herself in the pants for not getting the battery in the fob replaced. If Riley keeps the preseason this intense, a working car remote might become a necessity instead of a luxury. Alex makes a mental note to stop by the market tomorrow (an off day) and pick up new batteries.  

She drags herself into her small compact and takes a minute to slow her breathing. Alex laughs, remembering of that one Lord Of The Rings meme Kelley showed her, somewhere along the lines of "someone doesn't simply get in the car after leg day". Gosh, getting back into shape is a pain. Alex lights the ignition, and is peeling out of the stadium parking lot in the direction of her apartment. Taylor Swift comes on the radio as she passes Hot Lips pizza, and she starts to dance a little. Or at least as much as her tired body will let her.  

Suddenly, Alex's phone ringing brings her out of her impromptu jam session. She digs it out of her sweatpants pocket and looks at Caller I.D. briefly. It's Serv. She'd better answer it. 

"Hey." 

"Babe! How was your practice?" Servando sounds energetic over the phone. It almost tires Alex to think of how much energy he must have to still sound that happy after his training. 

"Intense. Very intense. My legs are currently the trainers' punching bag." 

"Very sorry, Mammacita Mia." 

Alex smiles. She truly loves how much he cares about her, "Thanks Serv. You're the best." 

"I know I am," he replies. 

Alex is too busy laughing at her phone to realize that the light she's in turned red several seconds ago. Alex is too busy laughing at her phone to notice the semi-truck barreling down the highway at a speed much faster than posted. Alex is too busy laughing at her phone to react to her car being slammed into the much larger truck. As she loses consciousness, all she can hear is Servando's voice from her phone, yelling 'Alex', over and over again.  

* * *

"Alex, Alex, Alex." 

She jolts awake, her eyes snapping open. 

That is not her boyfriend's voice. She looks around at unfamiliar surroundings. This is not her, nor Serv's apartment. What the hell? Alex closes her eyes again, trying to process everything. She remembers a crash, but why is she here? Never mind whose apartment, why isn't she in the hospital? 

"Alex," the voice singsongs again. The owner begins to place gossamer kisses on her neck, as gentle as a butterfly. 

Alex, now more awake, can recognize that voice in a heartbeat. 

" _Sinc?_ " Alex bolts upright. 

The Canadian smirks and wraps her arms around Alex's waist. She resists the urged to fling her teammate off of her. 

"Who else? Celine Dion?" Sinc jokes, her voice low and husky. 

"I-I-I," Alex fumbles, "I'llbeinthebathroomforaminute." 

She grabs her phone off the nightstand, jumps out of the bed and dashes out the bedroom door. Thankfully, the bathroom is right across the hall and the door is open. Alex quickly shuts it and plops down on the closed toilet seat. 

_What the fuck. What the actual fuck. Why am I in bed with Sinc? Why am I in bed with Sinc and apparently available for being kissed? What the hell happened?_

Alex scrolls frantically through her phone, which is also different too. Instead of the picture of her and Serv in their Barça jerseys and him kissing her on the cheek, one of her and Sinc cuddling on a couch takes up her lock screen. Half of her contacts are gone, and she also has weird ones like "Jerry - Tires" and "Elana - Cbn. Fiber". Alex is pretty relieved to still see Tobin and Kelley's numbers, though.  

_Knock knock._ "You okay, Lex?" 

"Yeah, uh, cramps," she lies, "I'll be out in a little." 

"Don't be too long, babe, you know how bad I am at cooking." 

As Alex listens to Sinc's retreating footsteps, she wonders how the hell she's going to get through the day with her world completely upside down.


	2. Chapter 1: Coma/A Night and A Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Servando visits Alex in the hospital. 
> 
> Alex learns more about Sinc and hers apparent relationship and becomes increasingly more confused about basically everything about her new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonus points if you know what their song is by those few lines. if you must be educated on true 1930s standards, i'll give you the link, uncultured swines. kidding. mostly.
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gsALgi5yM_A

It's all over SportsCentre, ESPN, Fox Sports, any athletic network, really. “USWNT Star Alex Morgan in Car Crash” flashes across every station he flips to. At first, when Alex cut out from the call, he just thought it was cellular difficulties. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he berates himself. He should've known something was wrong. He should've called Tobin to make sure Alex got to her apartment okay. He should've done more. 

Servando gets the call just after he sees the news. 

"Hello?" he says shakily into the phone. 

"Hello, sir. Is this Mr. Servando Carrasco?" 

"Yes." Servando feels his breath catch in his throat. 

"I am calling to inform you that your girlfriend, Miss Alex Morgan was in a serious car crash and is currently being treated at OHSU."  

The man on the phone sounds cold. Dull. Uncaring. Like it's the end of his shift and he can't wait to get off.  

"Can I see her?" 

"Yes, you may," he tells him the room number. "That'll be her room if her surgery goes successfully. And do not worry about alerting family, we have already done so for everyone on Miss Morgan's contacts list." 

"Thank you, sir." 

"Have a good night." 

The line goes silent.  

Servando races around his apartment to collect his keys and wallet, knowing the Portland is at least three hours away, with no traffic. If he gets there late, he might not even be able to see her before she's taken to be donated. If she dies. _If_ she dies. He stresses the if to himself over and over again. As he takes the stairs three at a time. As he fumbles to get his keys into the ignition. As he barrels down the highway, tapping "if, if, if," over and over again. Servando knows he has to hold onto what little hope he can muster. 

* * *

Servando makes it in four twenty-seven. Seattle traffic was awful, and didn't let up until he was far outside of the city. 

The lady at the front desk is sympathetic and kind. He's grateful that she doesn't ask for an autograph, or make a big deal out of who he is even though she has a Sounders pin on her lanyard. Servando thinks there are never too many of those people in the world. The ones that know boundaries, the ones that know the right situation, the ones who are able to empathize with complete strangers. She is one of a special kind. 

Servando tells her his name and Alex's and she waves him through with an apology and good wishes. He tells her he is very thankful.  

Servando tries not to run to Alex's room, but can't quite manage that, so he ends up speed walking down the hall. At the door is Tobin, speaking with a doctor. Once Servando gets close enough, Tobin enfolds him in a hug. Even though she is four inches shorter than him, Servando feels like a child being comforted by his mother. 

"It's gonna be okay, man. Doc has some really good news," Tobin whispers into his ear as she releases him. 

"Hello, sir, I'm Dr. Van Hollebeke, Alex's surgeon," they shake hands. "Alex suffered from a few broken bones, large abrasions, a collapsed lung, internal bleeding and some brain trauma  from the whiplash. We were able to repair all of the physical damage and we have our top cosmetic surgeons working on the skin grafts right now, but Alex is still in a medically induced coma for the brain trauma. We're unsure if she'll come out of her coma in a few days with some coaxing, or if we'll just have to wait and let her wake up on her own time, which could be anywhere from a couple weeks to a month, or even longer. Unfortunately, if her coma does end up that long, we can't predict how or how not her brain may be altered or damaged. If it goes even longer, we might be looking at a case for termination. But I can assure you, Mr. Carrasco, that the surgeries went smoothly and we're projecting having Alex back to you in a week and a half to two. Those were just worst case scenarios." 

Servando is speechless. He was expecting so much worse, but what he got was better than he could've ever imagined. He could hug Dr. Van Hollebeke, right now. 

"Thank you so much, Doctor. May we see Alex?" 

"Yes," Tobin and Servando are both incredibly excited by this, "but I'll have to warn you that she unfortunately won't be looking very pretty, and she'll be completely unresponsive." 

With their last thanks to Dr. Van Hollebeke, the two of them enter the room slowly, prepared for the worst. 

Servando goes weak at the sight of Alex. Her head is wrapped up, and what little skin is showing is mostly scraped up. She has various casts, splints, and bandages littering her body. A tube is in her mouth, breathing for her. Servando watches from the door, her chest moving up and down, and reminds himself that she is still alive. Alex, _his_ Alex is still alive. 

He looks over at Tobin and gives her a small smile. 

She smiles back and replies, "I know she'll be okay, Serv. I got a real good feeling." 

"How do you know?" 

She shrugs, "Him," and points upward. 

Classic Tobin. Servando thinks he should probably take this religion thing more seriously, if it could put him as much at ease as it does Tobin. Right now, more than ever, he needs something to believe in. 

* * *

Alex emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, significantly more composed but no less confused when she entered. Alex still doesn't know whethe she dreamed up the crash and is still stuck in her dream or if the crash did happen and this is some sort of crazy coma hallucination. Whichever it is, Alex decides just to play along, knowing that deep down, she loves and someday wants to marry Servando. Pretending to be in love with a teammate in a dream couldn't do much harm. 

Sinc's face brightens as Alex enters the kitchen.  

"Hey there, you okay?" 

Alex smiles. "Yeah. I'm better now." 

Sinc makes her way to Alex, wrapping her arms around Alex and resting her head on her shoulder. Sinc makes them sway to the music, an old song Alex doesn't recognize. 

"Good. Yesterday you took a pretty big fall at the shop, according to Tobin, and I found you here all snuggled up in bed." 

Well, at least Alex knows that she definitely isn't a soccer player in this universe, although she still has her soccer legs. She wonders what she and Sinc do for their livings. 

"I think I just needed to sleep it off," she shrugs, easing into Sinc's body more. 

Alex can almost imagine it, this life she has with Sinc. After they're both done with whatever they do for their jobs, they put on old jazz and cook together. Probably spending more time dancing and kissing than actually making food, but they get it done anyways. Once their meal is ready, she finds that Sinc took the time between when she got off work to when Alex does to decorate the balcony with a romantic dinner setting, lights, candles, tablecloth and all, maybe with a little vintage record player in the corner, instead of a battered Bluetooth speaker. It's almost too good to be true. Scratch the almost, it _is_ too good to be true. Alex dreamt it up for herself, knowing what she'd love more than anything in a relationship. But if it was her perfect world, why wasn't she sharing it with Servando? Alex shakes that thought and tries to be more present with Sinc. 

"I'm glad you're feeling better, babe. Today's our off day, and I want to spend the most of it with my gorgeous girlfriend as I can." 

Alex shivers at "babe" and "girlfriend". She can't tell whether it was a good shiver or not. 

"As do I," Alex rasps, this time initiating the neck kissing. She can feel Sinc's breath hitch, and Alex smiles into her kiss. Knowing that she has that power, to reduce the tough and strong Christine Sinclair to weak knees and lovesick eyes feels _incredible_. But it also felt strange. Kissing a girl. Alex has never done this before, and she doesn't know if she likes it. 

The song switches, and Alex can tell it's one of Sinc's favourites, by the way her body begins to sway perfectly to the tempo from the first few seconds, the way she hums along to the instrumental, the way she stand up taller and takes Alex into a more traditional pose, still back to front, but hands clasped together and one extended slightly out. 

They dance mostly in silence for the first few parts of the song, Sinc softly humming the tune and Alex being enchanted by the words the man is singing and his smooth and charming voice. Around the second or third verse, she can make out Sinc singing along to the track faintly. 

"Lovely ... Never, never change, keep that breathless charm, won't you please arrange it? 'Cause I love you, just the way you look tonight," the Canadian sings quietly, purposefully only loud enough for Alex to hear. Alex could tell now that this song was something special to them, something important.  

And she could imagine it too, like she imagined their life before. It was unnerving; every time Alex had tried to imagine a future with Servando in the past, she couldn't see beyond the present. With Sinc, Alex could envision their entire relationship, and it was one she's never lived. It was almost like she was more in love with Sinc in less than an hour than she's ever been in love with Servando in four years. 

That fact scared Alex so damn much. 

As the song ends, Sinc releases Alex and stands by her, the pair leaned against the island countertop. It felt like their magical moment dissipated, and Alex couldn't help but feel disappointed. 

"That night was amazing," Sinc admits. 

Alex doesn't know an ounce about 'that night', so she fumbles around for a second, thinking of what to say. 

"Tell me about it again," she blurts, "I love how you describe it." 

"I swear, every time, Morgan..." Sinc laughs. 

"It's not my fault you're the best storyteller. Or the lighter drinker," Alex takes a chance, knowing that she would've probably been a little tipsy, no matter the circumstances. 

"True, true. I am pretty amazing." 

Alex punches Sinc lightly on the arm, "Tell the damn story, woman, I'm waiting." 

She rubs her arm in pretend hurt, "So pushy..." 

Alex gives her another glare. She's genuinely curious about "That Night" and how that song came to be "That Song". 

"Alright, alright. So remember this was like, three months into when we had started dating and when you told me that you had a +1 spot open for me for some sort of business dance thing and I was incredibly nervous because earning the +1, especially for what sounded really professional of an event meant the relationship was getting serious. And then you told me the ball was this 1930s themed thing for small business owners and since this was the first year of PDX Transit being open, this was the first year you had gone. That made me a little less nervous because it was way more informal, one, and two, we both were going into it with really no idea what we were doing. I was still freaked out though, because where the hell would I find a 30s costume in less than three days? 

"Anyways, I remember picking you up at your apartment the night of being really nervous because I felt like an idiot in that ridiculous tux and Crisco in my tied up hair but then you came out in your red gown that you looked amazing in and my heart kinda stopped. I had no idea how a Canadian dork like me ever got your attention. And then you came over with this really intense look in your eyes and kind of slammed me against my car with this really heavy kiss. If I didn't tell you we really needed to get to the ball, I'm sure you would've taken me in my car, right then," 

"I would have not!" Alex interjects. 

"You would have! I honestly swear to God that is what I saw in your eyes." 

"Whatever..." Alex rolls her eyes. 

"Anyways, before I was so rudely interrupted, we were on our way to the ball. I was still sweating a ton, because I was nervous about, well... _us._ Being us. And being together. And what people might think. And so as we were about halfway there, you made me pull over, looked me in the eye and said 'Christine Sinclair, I am absolutely not ashamed of you, or you and I. I will march in there and show off my beautiful fucking girlfriend because that is who you are. I'm not afraid, or ashamed and neither should you be. Now drive.' And after that pep talk, I wasn't nervous at all. When we got to the ball, I had the most amazing time ever and I was so proud when you won 'New Business Owner of the Year'. I kept thinking, 'that's _my_ Alex up there. You were so beautiful, God, and your smile was so big, I just couldn't stop staring 

"After the awards, I accompanied you to the open bar that you made liberal use of. By the near end of the night, you were pretty tipsy. I led you out to the balcony after you almost kissed this other woman wearing the same suit I was, thinking she was me. And that's when the song came on. When I was in high school, my jazz band had played it every year as part of our Valentine's Day rotation and I fell in love with the song. Hearing it again, after almost fifteen years was like a rediscovery. We danced to it, out on the balcony, you stumbling around in your heels and me being so sweaty that my palms left prints in your gloves. You were drunk off of alcohol and I was drunk off the night and we both didn't give a fuck about anything. I sang along, loudly and badly. When it was over, I forgot that the song says I love you in it, and we had never said that before, and you were looking at me really intensely at the end. I asked what, and you replied with 'did you mean it?' and I asked what again, and you replied, this time quieter and more in control, 'the I love you? Did you mean it?' and I didnt even hesitate before I said yes. You looked at me so softly, so gently, it was such a different look than the one you'd given me a little before and said, 'I love you too'. 

"We kissed intensely, but this time it was gentle. Slower. It had all the same feelings, but it was like someone had pressed slo-mo. It was like we had all the time in the world and we were going to use it. We went back to my place and made love, keeping the song on repeat and with both of us singing along at random parts. It was romantic and sexual and sensual and by far, the best sex I've ever had in my life. Everything leading up to it was perfect and then everything during was perfect. The only thing not so perfect was the aftermath, a hungover Alex Morgan and a wrinkly gown that had to be returned by three P.M." 

Alex is speechless. Actually speechless. That sounds so romantic, so beautiful, so perfect. She's never had anything close to that night with Servando. Ever. And she doesn't know how she feels about that. Alex loves Servando to the moon and back and she knows he feels the same, but this Christine loves her more than anything in the universe. Well, _her_ Alex. And that's where it hurts. She has this amazing love and she can feel this amazing love, yet she herself didn't build it. Alex shares the same name and face as is girl, but she is not her. She didn't live through that night. She didn't live through however many years they've been dating. She doesn't really know anything about this relationship except a song, one night and the overwhelming feeling of love in everything that her and Christine do. And she's a little jealous. A little jealous of this Other Alex that has this perfect relationship and perfect life and probably perfect everything.  

But in a second, Alex feels pangs of guilt. She shouldn't feel this way about something that isn't even real. Servando is real. The Portland Thorns and soccer is real. Alex isn't even gay. But why does this love feel ten thousand times more real than anything she has with Servando? 

As she finds more things out about this other life, the more confusing it gets. 


	3. Chapter 2: The Nurse/Old Friends Who Are Still, Thankfully, Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The nurse faithfully tends to her charge as visitors come in and out.
> 
> Alex sees her shop. Tobin her have lunch together and Alex may or may not spill the metaphorical beans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note, I know very little about the medical side of things, so take everything that happens regarding medical information with a grain of salt. Inversely, I used to live in Portland and am very knowledgeable about the city. Deschutes Brewery is a real restaurant, and it is fantastic, albeit slightly too commercial for my tastes. 
> 
> I'm getting packed up for school and am soon moving in, but I'll try to keep the chapters coming. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, y'all!

She's been here the whole time. Smoothed the pretty girl's hair back and said she'd be okay as they rushed her into surgery. Watched and assisted as the surgeons sliced through rivers of blood to fix what was broken and give things that are new. Brushed the blood out of the hair that surgeons always forget to clean and gave her air to breath and food to eat. Unconventionally, of course. She gazed on silently as a man and his friend stood paralyzed at the pretty girl's door. She watches them now as they approach her charge, the pretty girl who should not be alive, but by miracle she is.

The man cries first. As he grabs her hand, the tears fall from his eyes. He whispers something in Spanish to the girl; something she can't understand. He cries some more before the lanky one moves forward to comfort him. She can't pick up on a gender for that one. They display some commonly female traits, but there's something else there. She thinks. And maybe it's wishful thinking, hoping that they're something outside of the cisgender, heterosexual norm, someone like her.

She should get back to her job.

She monitors her vitals again, checking her heart rate and blood pressure for the umpteenth time, but she can't tear her eyes away from the pair of silently grieving friends. The lanky one bows their head, lips moving almost undetectably. She thinks they're praying. She hopes they're praying. Her pretty girl is going to need all the prayers she can get.

The pair leaves after a couple minutes, but almost directly after, another visitor comes. Her dark hair is in a haphazard ponytail, one of her hoodie drawstrings is inside the sweatshirt, her shoes are undone and her socks are pulled up at different lengths. The woman gives a glance at her, gives her a timid smile, then quickly looks away. She takes up a chair next to the pretty girl and enfolds her hand in both of hers.

“Hey Baby Horse. I know you can't hear me, but you gotta stay strong. For the Thorns. For your national team. For Servando. For all of us. I don't want to think of a world without Alex Morgan in it.”

The woman takes an uneasy swallow, then continues.

“And I know I'm probably not the most important person in your life… but you are in mine. Your honesty, your kindess, your love of the game is just so inspiring and it makes me want to be better. Play with more purpose, I guess. And God, your smile, it just lights up the pitch. You made America fall in love with you, Alex. And I know,” the woman's voice breaks, a sob threatens to burst from her throat, “I know that all across America, probably even beyond, people are praying for their Baby Horse to get better. You can't let them down Lex. You can't let me down.”

The tears and sobs overcome the woman. She ducks her head and cries.

She tears her gaze away from the crying woman, unable to watch any longer. While she loves being a nurse, it's also one of the most heartbreaking jobs in a hospital.

* * *

Alex and Sinc are cuddled up on the couch watching Grey's Anatomy reruns when Alex feels her phone buzz. She fishes it out of her pocket and looks to who it is. Tobin's dorky face on her screen gives her instant relief; at least Alex won't have to bullshit her way through yet another interaction. 

"Hey Tobs!" Alex exclaims energetically, but trying to keep it quiet for Sinc. 

"Alex!" Tobin exclaims back, with just as much energy, "What are the lovebird up to?" 

"Not much, Grey's reruns, an excellent breakfast..." 

"So you cooked?" 

Alex's phone is just loud enough for Sinc to hear, and she chuckles at Tobin's response.  

"Obviously," Alex replies, earning a light push from Sinc. 

"So are you cool with being lazy on the couch all day with Sinc, or do you want to come to lunch with me?" 

This makes Alex nervous. Clearly her and Tobin are long time friends in this universe too and while she's managed to fake her way through her and Sinc's morning, she isn't sure she can do that with Tobin. But then again, if Alex were her brain, she'd probably put in someone in this world that would understand her situation and help her, and that person would be Tobin.  

Alex looks at Sinc, who smirks, "Go. You two haven't had much time together since you and I got together." 

"Thank you so much... Babe,"the babe comes out awkwardly, but Sinc seems to not have noticed. 

"Anytime." 

Alex turns back to her phone, "Yeah, I'll be there. Cleared it with the mistress and everything." 

"Sweet! Meet at the shop in fifteen?" 

"Sounds good." 

Alex starts to untangle herself from Sinc's embrace, but quickly decides to give her a short kiss, "See you after lunch." 

Alex tries to hunt down car keys, but doesn't find them anywhere. She does notice a couple of bike helmets, which seem like a pretty good second option. In a couple minutes, she locates her and Sinc's bikes, stashed in a closet. One of them is smaller and a muted pink and the other is larger and white and red. Alex assumes the smaller of the two is hers. Picking it up, she finds it's surprisingly light. _Geez,_ Alex thinks, _this is a nice bike_. Strapping on her helmet, she hurries out the apartment and down the stairs.  

As she stands on the sidewalk, bike next to her, Alex realizes she has no idea where said "shop" is. Maybe... Maybe it's where Tobin works? Maybe it's where she works? Wait! Alex remembers that Sinc told her that she owned a store... PDX... PDX something... PDX Transit! That's it! Alex plugs it into Google Maps and hopes for the best.  

Being up and around Portland without being recognized is weird. It's nice, really nice, actually, but it's still weird. Usually, she'd have been stopped by at least five people by now. But in this world (or universe or dream or whatever), nobody's given Alex a second glance. Checking her phone at a stoplight quickly, Alex sees that she'll get there just a minute before what time she and Tobin planned. If she is going to the right place, after all.  

Thirteen and a half minutes later, Alex pulls up to a quaint shop obviously set up for the summer season. The whole facade is open air, save a metal foldable door taking up a few feet on the right side. That must be for winter time. As she peers into the shop, she sees bicycle frames strung from the ceiling and a small loft overlooking the shop. There's a corner with heavy-duty machinery and what looks like a half finished frame clamped in a jig. In another corner is bike seats, tires, spokes, you name it, it's there bike accessories. A slightly familiar looking short freckled woman with her back turned appears to be restocking biking shoes. The last corner is reserved for skateboard and longboards, with a very familiar lanky and tan human manning the counter. 

 "Lex!" she says. 

The freckled woman turns around and shouts, "Hey boss!" 

Alex is taken aback, recognizing Kelley O'Hara's bright face. She definitely did not expect to be one of her (older, nonetheless) best friend's boss, much less both of them. 

Tobin hops the counter, longboard in hand, and starts towards Alex, "I'm really feeling Deschutes, you cool with that?" 

Deschutes. Deschutes Brewery. Thank God one of her favourite restaurants still existed. Alex is so excited to finally have something normal. A relaxed lunch with her best friend at their favourite brew pub, what could go wrong? Lots, Alex reminds herself. This Tobin, however much she looks like her Tobin and acts like her Tobin (bare feet and all), is not her Tobin, and she has to be a little careful not to scare her off, at least at the beginning. She was planning on telling Tobin her coma world theory, though. But if anyone can take it, it's Tobin. 

"That sounds awesome!" 

The pair set off yelling goodbye to Kelley and a 'dont dare leave the store unattended' over their shoulders. 

* * *

They made it in good time (Sunday traffic in Portland is never that bad) and are seated quickly, which is a rarity at Deschutes. As they sit down, Alex takes in the amazing smell of cooking and the ornate wooden carvings all around the restaurant. It used to be an old warehouse, but when Deschutes moved in, they renovated the whole place with local native artists' woodwork, their art etched into the huge wooden beams. The tables are also locally sourced, huge natural slabs of wood adding to the northwest vibe. Alex smiles; everything is exactly how it is in her world, which is probably one of the most comforting things she's felt all day.  

They're given menus, but they both know what they want to eat. Still, the look at the beers for any new options. Alex and Tobin bicker over the choices, their wildly different drink preferences showing. 

"Tobin, the new summer seasonal sounds so good!" 

"Wait, the Twilight Summer Ale? I had it last week when I came here with Allie. It was like, the fruitiest, lightest beer I've ever had." 

"And that's a bad thing?"  

"Dude... Do you even know me? Me and my beer tastes?" 

"Yes, but I'm ordering for me, and not for you, you dork." 

"Fair point." 

Soon after, the server comes by and asks them what they want to drink, interrupting a debate whether or not a stout ale was "inappropriate" for summer. 

"Oh, I'll have the Twilight Summer Ale," Alex says, glaring at a snickering Tobin from across the table. 

"And I'll have the Obsidian Stout, Greg."  

The server (whom this Tobin is apparently familiar with) writes their order down on his pad and continues on his way.  

"Tobin, that's like drinking black concentrated ink for a beer. It's darker and richer than Sepp Blatter's soul." 

She looks slightly miffed, "Are you daring to compare my beloved Obsidian to that heinous creature of a man?" 

Alex laughs at Tobin's antics, "Yes, yes I am. I don't even know how you can drink it that dark." 

"You have to not be Alex Morgan," Tobin deadpans. 

"Hey, there is nothing wrong with being Alex Morgan! I am your boss, after all!" 

The playful banter continues until Greg comes back with their beers and to take their orders. 

"The usual, Tobin?" he asks. 

"Yeah, man!" she smiles and raises her drink to him. Alex assumes that she is apparently a regular in this world. Alex wonders is she is too. 

"Same for you, Alex?" 

Well that answers her question. 

"Yes, thank you." Alex just hopes her alternate universe twin has a good taste in food. 

Greg scribbles a little bit on his pad and then slips on to the next table. 

This is amazing. Really, really amazing. Her friendship with Tobin is so familiar, so reassuring that it instantly put her at ease, from the moment she called. And now, lunch so far has been one of the only ordinary and familiar things she's done so far. Not that she has much experience in this world, but it's just nice to not be completely confused for once. As they spend more time together, Alex is more sure that Tobin is the person she'll confide in.  

After their food comes (a delicious salad for her and a bacon hamburger for Tobin), Alex decides its time to tell her. 

"Hey Tobs? This is going to sound really crazy and you probably won't believe me and I-" 

Tobin cuts her off. "Alex, whatever it is, it's fine. I'm your best friend. We've been through literally everything together. Just go ahead; give me your worst." 

Alex bites her lip, "Well, what if... What if I told you that this isn't actually my life. And that I got in a car crash in the real world and this world is some sort of oddly consious dream I conjured up in my probably comatose state." 

Tobin stops, hamburger halfway to her mouth, "You're joking." 

Alex shrugs, picking at her hands in her lap, "I'm really not. And I've been scared out of my mind all morning because I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing and I just need someone to acknowledge that I'm not the Alex everyone expects me to be." 

Tobin sits back in her seat, removes her SnapBack and runs a hand through her messy hair. She thinks for a couple minutes while Alex just anxiously sips her beer. At first, the fruitiness was open and sweet, now it just tastes overpowering and cloying as the beer slithers down her throat. 

Finally, Tobin speaks up, "Honestly Lex, you sound crazy. I should probably check you for a fever right now. But you know what? I don't know why and I don't know how, but I believe you. Your story honestly makes no sense at all, but however you are here, by Him or your drugged up imagination, I know you don't belong. I can feel it, somehow." 

"God, Tobin," Alex says through almost-tears, "I can't thank you enough for believing me. When I woke up this morning, I was so lost and Sinc was so new and nothing was the same but then I came out here with you and everything clicked, just like it does in my world." 

"Well, if I am in some sort of test He gave you, I wanna know who the you-me is. Where did they go to college, what they do, if their parents are less jerks or not." 

Alex smiles. She can tell this Tobin would love her life in Alex's world. "You went to college at UNC, on a soccer scholarship. They noticed you with the youth national team along with your friend Ashlyn Harris-" 

"Wait, _the_ Ashlyn Harris? Like, Portland Thorns keeper Ashlyn Harris? And _national team?_ As in, US Women's National Team? I'm a national prospect???"  

Alex laughs at Tobin's obvious excitement. "In my world she plays for the Spirit, but yeah, Ashlyn. You and her are really good friends on the team, by the way. Anyways, after college, you were drafted first for the Beat, but you had World Cup stuff, so you weren't there for much of the season. But then after the WPS folded, you went to New York for a game before being called up again for the 2012 Olympics. That was the first big tournament we attended together." 

"You play soccer too?" Tobin looks a little surprised, and Alex feels slightly offended. 

"Yeah, I play for the Thorns, where you and Sinc play too, actually." 

Tobin nods her head approvingly, "Well aren't we all talented." 

"Anyways, after 2012 you went to PSG, which I was kinda pissed off about because we talked about Portland together for the allocation, but you only spent six months there and then came to Portland in 2013 so I guess I wasn't too mad. Fast forward a few years and here we are, probably the two biggest names for the Thorns." 

Tobin sits back in her seat, probably trying to process all the information Alex spouted out. "Alex... That's crazy... Nationals... World cup... I'm just..." 

"Yeah," Alex laughs, "It's a lot to take in. It's even hard for me to do sometimes." 

"Well, excuse me," Tobin glances upward, "but our lives sounds pretty damn awesome." 

"Yeah, they do..." Alex sighs, thinking of home. Her home. With Servando. And their dumb uncoordinated cat. And the pitch waiting for her and the crowd chanting her name. As nice as this world is, Alex misses her normal life. It's a little like reverse Cinderella; her life is like the beautiful ball and now she's spending her time in rags. Well, not really rags, but the metaphor is still the same. Maybe... Maybe she has to learn something here. Like those tests that Tobin and Cheney were always talking about in the Bible. Maybe God, or whoever put her in that car crash and put her in this coma to learn something, to be better.  

Or maybe Alex was just a fucking idiot and brought this whole damn drugged up comatose mess upon herself by using her phone while driving. Not everything has to be a symbol.


	4. Chapter 3: Simplicity/Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex falls in love and somebody comes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short and very overdue, I'm sorry! I was incredibly busy and then I got a concussion that took me out of commission for a couple weeks. Enjoy!

When Alex gets home, Christine is propped up on the couch with her laptop and a large stack of papers next to her. She's sipping on a chrome tumbler that has "U OF P LAW DEPT." stamped on the side. When she hears the door behind Alex click shut, Christine looks up at her through thick rimmed glasses, then immediately smiles.

"Hey, Lex. How was lunch?"

Alex smiles her nickname. She loves how it sounds when Christine says it, casual and raspy at the end.

"It was great. Kelley didn't burn down the shop while we were gone."

"That's a surprise," Christine jokes as Alex puts away her bike in the closet. She then comes to sit next to Christine. She pulls her knees up and sighs into the other woman's side, burrowing her head into the fabric of Christine's hoodie.

"What's all of this?" Alex asks, gesturing to the mountain of paper.

"Grading tests. There's a shortage of TAs this semester, which leaves me to work through all this crap."

"You poor thing," Alex replies with a fake pout.

"Hey, you try having hundreds of law students to plan for, teach, and grade!"

"Yeah, well I build bikes all day... So... So... There!"

Christine raises an eyebrow at Alex. "Nice try, babe."

Alex looks up at Christine, and something feels different. It feels like... like love. She feels in love with this dumb law professor girlfriend version of Christine from this alternate universe for the first time since she's been here. Alex finally isn't envious of their love, she finally isn't picturing their love because she finally feels it herself and it's like everything in the universe clicking into place.

Alex closes the gap between their faces, gently tugging Christine's head towards her. The kiss is soft, it's gentle, it's borderline chaste, but there's too much emotion behind it to fall under that category. There's no over the top passion, it's not a battle of lips in the midst of a new and exciting spring of lust, but a dance that has been danced a hundred times and still feels new. In this moment, Alex realizes what their relationship is all about.

It is about simplicity and the beauty that can be found in it. They thrive off of simple, from the one bedroom studio apartment to their humble professions. It is about not needing extravagance and wealth to be the richest people on earth. They have everything they need, which cannot be measured in currency.

When they pull apart, they keep their faces close, close enough to feel each other's breath. Christine's smells like coffee and mint. Alex hopes hers isn't too bad, but she doubts Christine would care.

"I love you," says Christine.

"I love you too," Alex says back, and this time she means it.

* * *

 Tobin rubs their hands together nervously. They don't know why they're nervous, they shouldn't be nervous, but they are anyways. And they feel pathetic. They've scored in a World Cup Final, they've gold medalled at the Olympics, but the simple act of coming out is too much.

They look upward, "Could really use some courage right now." They play with Alex's bed linens a little bit more, hoping He heard their prayer.

A few minutes go by until they suddenly blurt, "AlexIhavesomethingtosay."

Not the smoothest, but they were talking to a person in a coma. Alex would probably understand.

No. If Alex were here, they'd be teased mercilessly by the forward. Coma Alex is a better first audience.

Taking a deep breath, they continue, "I'm... Well..." Tobin struggles to admit it out loud, "I'm agender. Like not feeling like a guy or girl or even something else."

Alex doesn't respond.

Of course she won't respond, she's in a coma.

"And I'm telling you now because I'll have to tell you at some point and practice always makes things easier and wow, I'm rambling," they rub the back of their neck sheepishly, "Sorry. But you don't care because you're in a coma and I probably sound crazy talking to a person in a coma."

"You're not crazy," a voice says softly. Tobin turns, finding the nurse looking at them kindly. "Lots of people talk to their loved ones while they're in comas."

"We're not a thing-" Tobin begins. "But you are good friends," the nurse cuts them off, "and all good friends love each other. I can tell you love her a lot."

"I do," Tobin squeezes Alex's hand.

The nurse studies them a little while longer. "I hope your friend accepts who you are as well as she has in her coma," the nurse jokes.

"Yeah, that'd be great," they say. Tobin takes one last look at Alex, then gets up to leave. Before they exit the room fully, they turn back to the nurse, "Thank you. For making me feel not crazy."

The nurse smiles softly, "It's my job, hon."


	5. Chapter 4: Drowning/Praying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex is drowning and Christine is praying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two super short chapters in two days after I've been gone for a month. Another tomorrow, maybe? Please enjoy, and I love to hear what you guys say in the comments.

Alex wakes up in the middle of the night gasping for air. It feels like she's drowning. She can't force a full breath into her lungs and her vision turns fuzzy. Soon Christine is up as well.

"Alex, Alex, look at me." She swivels her head to the side, trying to focus on the blurry shape of Christine. "What's going on? Allergic reaction? Asthma you haven't told me about? Something else? Please, I need to know so I can help."

Alex tries to point to her chest, creating an "X" over it to signal she can't breathe. But, her hand goes limp before she can make the other line. The last thing Alex hears is Christine repeating her name before a loud beeping consumes her voice and she descends into darkness.

* * *

 

**_Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep!_ **

The shrill noise jolts the nurse awake. She jumps up, panicked and disappointed that she fell asleep on duty. The nurse runs to the girl's vital screens. Once she makes sense of the data, her heart drops into her stomach.

The nurse jams the intercom button, calling for a doctor.

"Patient vitals are everywhere! I think it's internal bleeding and fluid in the lungs. We'll lose her if we don't go into surgery, now!"

"Emergency unit is on their way now, I'll prep Van Hollebeke for surgery, stat."

The nurse removes a shaky hand from the intercom. She's done her job, now she can only hope that the surgeon does hers as well. The nurse hopes her lanky friend is praying right now, because now more than ever, the pretty girl is going to need all the prayers she can get.

* * *

 

Tobin calls her at 2:47 AM. Christine knows it's about Alex.

"Sinc, it's Alex. The... the hospital had to do another surgery on her and in order to make sure they were successful, they're waking her up."

Christine's breath catches in her throat. This is do or die. If Alex lives or not. If she'll ever be able to tell her baby horse she loves her.

"I'll be there in ten."

Christine speeds the entire way over and makes it in five. Fuck the cops, this is Alex's life. She runs up the stairs, past the receptionist who seems to understand and straight to Alex's room.

Tobin and Servando are already there, sitting in chairs beside Alex's bedside. The nurse and who Christine assumes to be the doctor or surgeon stands by on the other side.

"Sinc," Tobin says, standing up. "We waited for you. Kept telling them that someone important needed to be here. I'm pretty sure they weren't going to wait a minute more."

Christine tackles Tobin tensely in a hug. A thank you is whispered, only audible enough for the two to hear it.

The doctor clears her throat, "Okay, we're going to wean Alex off the chemical that's keeping her unconscious and in the coma and onto a chemical that will speed up the waking process."

The three nod. Tobin grasps each of their friends' hands, seeking comfort in that physical touch. They glance at each other, nodding. Whether they really feel like it or not, all of them are ready.

While the doctor begins to fiddle with one of the panels and hoses attached to it, the three friends all hold their breath.

"Any second now," the doctor says.

Servando prays. Tobin prays. Christine doesn't believe in God, but she prays anyways. Anything for Alex.

The pulse monitor starts moving faster. The nurse smiles at them, which Christine takes as a good sign.

"That's good," the doctor comments.

And finally, after what feels like forever, everyone in the room hears a small gasp.

_Alex._


	6. Chapter 5: Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Alex wakes up and Christine asks more questions than she should have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I've been gone for so long! Reconcussion, illness and impending midterms have had my schedule locked up. Another short chapter, my apologies. Enjoy!

Alex is back. She doesn't register it right away, but as she slowly shakes off the sleepy haze around her, she knows. The hospital sheets are coarse and thick, yet they barely keep Alex warm. They are not Christine and her's, soft and cozy and ever so subtly scented with Christine's light cologne and heated by the presence of another. Alex knows when everything begins to ache all over, this body crying out with everything it does. This is not the soft and supple body Christine peppered with kisses before they slept last night. She realizes it when she turns her head slowly and slightly, seeing Servando sitting there worriedly along with Christine and Tobin. Alex knows because everything is familiar but nothing is the same.

* * *

 

No training until you heal. Those are familiar words, but they've never held this much meaning before. It's always been a definite amount of time, a set date when she can finally go back to the beautiful game, but not this time.

No training until you heal, if ever.

She's no stranger to career ending injuries, having worked through one as a high school student, but having four to five career ending injuries at once is nothing like anything Alex's ever been through. After days and days of waiting around and being utterly bored in the hospital, Alex is finally discharged to wait around and be utterly bored in her apartment. Servando had to leave for club duties before she came home, so even he isn't there to keep Alex company.

During the crash, Alex also sustained a concussion, found out post-waking up. Alex hits an entirely new level of boredom on the fourth day home, laying on her bed with the lights turned off with no sound or technology. Alex thinks it feels like death.

Which now, Alex can say somewhat truthfully because she did, after all, experience near-death injuries. Alex laughs drily at herself, staring up at where she assumes the ceiling to be.

Now, Alex thinks she's going crazy.

Christine visits on her seventh day home. When Alex answers the door, she takes Christine in for the first time since Coma-Land.

She looks like she just came from training, her ponytail slicked back and damp. She's wearing that one Thorns hoodie she never takes off and Team Canada track pants. Alex admires the way her legs look in those pants, but quickly realizes that those legs are not hers for looking anymore and quickly snaps her gaze back up to Christine.

"Hey," Christine says simply.

"Sinc," Alex replies, remembering to call her what she normally does in this world. The little changes really remind her how different her two lives are.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." The taller Canadian meanders into Alex's apartment, hands stuffed into her hoodie pocket.

"Your place, it look nice." Alex shrugs, "Could be better." Maybe if you lived here too, she thinks, but doesn't say.

"Eh, that's what everyone says. Unless you're a certain Michelle Betos, queen of home decorating."

This elicits a chuckle out of Alex, "True, true."

A comfortable silence settles over the pair as they migrate toward the kitchen. Alex is on a crutch, her left arm and leg both broken. She hobbles slowly, each step fifty times the effort than before. Christine swallows thickly. She can't stand seeing Alex this pitiful, this broken. Christine wonders if she'll ever be able to return to the pitch.

"Coffee? Tea? Water?" Alex asks while grabbing herself a cup.

"I'm fine. Thanks."

Alex busies herself with brewing up her tea while Christine looks around the apartment. There's a cluster of photo frames filled with Servando and Alex on the coffee table next to piles of fan mail. The couple's latest team pictures hang side by side on the wall. Servando's extra pair of cleats dwarf Alex's pink ones in the corner along with a pile of miscellaneous training shirts, shorts, track jackets and other gear.

It's well lived in, but it still feels cold to Christine. Only one person truly inhabits this home and the other one is a ghost for many of the months in the year.

"Do you miss him?" Christine blurts. Alex eyes her from the kitchen,

"Servando?"

"Yeah, like during the season. When he isn't here every day."

Alex shrugs, "I guess. I'm usually too busy to miss him."

Christine runs a digit along the top of one of the photo frames, dust collecting on her index finger, "Do you miss him now?"

Alex's hands freeze in mid-dip of the tea bag. It hits her at that moment that she really doesn't. Sure, Alex misses the company and the presence of someone else at night, but does she miss Servando? No. And it scares the hell out of her.

"Sinc, I'm going to be truthful, and you can't tell anyone I said this, but," she takes a deep breath, "no."

Christine wasn't expecting that answer. A part of her feels hopeful, maybe she has a chance, but a part of her empathizes with Servando. The poor man's longtime girlfriend who almost died is falling out of love with him and he doesn't even know it. If she were him, it would kill her.

"And I know that it's so wrong to say this, after years and years of being together, but I'm not even sure I was ever in love."

Christine looks up from the pictures, staring down Alex. She walks up to her, only the kitchen island separating them, "Al, it's how you feel and there are no wrong feelings. People can fall in and out of love whenever. Just like that, sometimes. And yeah, it's shitty, and yeah, people get hurt, but in the end it's best for everyone. Don't ever feel guilty for feeling."

And then it's like all of Alex'a impulse control flies out the window. She pushes both of their heads together and captures Christine's lips in a kiss.

It's great, incredible even, but Alex is distracted by the overwhelming simultaneous feeling of being on top of the world and like the biggest fuck up in modern history.


End file.
